Enchanted
by AgentTiva
Summary: Belle is forced to drink a potion that takes her to New York City during the Roaring Twenties when factories had no regulations and workers skills were often abused. There she meets a kind, crippled factory worker, Rumplestiltskin, and his thirteen year old son, Bae. But the Evil Queen has an evil plan to destroy Belle and her happiness. Inspired by the movie, Enchanted.
1. Chapter 1

**Another note: **A new story for a new year, cheers!**  
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**Summary**: Princess Belle of Avonlea is forced to drink a potion that takes her to New York City during the Roaring Twenties when factories had no regulations and workers skills were often abused. There she meets a kind, crippled factory worker, Rumplestiltskin, and his thirteen year old son, Bae. But the Evil Queen has an evil plan to destroy Belle and her happiness. Inspired by the movie, Enchanted.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Once Upon a Time. This was inspired by the movie Enchanted.

* * *

Once upon a time, in far off land, there was a kingdom known as Avonlea. This kingdom was beautiful, strong, and lasting. Well, until the Ogre Wars approached and Avonlea reached an alarming downfall. They had valiant army's and gallant knight's ready and at disposal for the king's delight. The army's had failed. Though they had fought with passionate rage most soldiers were killed within seconds; the Ogre's were simply stronger. King Maurice was the leader of Avonlea while his daughter, Princess Belle, was next in line to take the throne.

They were loved, and cherished by the villagers for they were known to be fair and caring. Unfortunately, the villagers were now under constant distress as the Ogre War attacks were gaining territory. Soon, the Ogre's themselves would reach the castle walls, and King Maurice would be forced to fight. King Maurice, in a fit of despair of worry for his daughter, made a terrible decision, with the best intentions, of course. He called upon the Evil Queen in hopes that she could send Belle to a safer place. Unbeknownst to Belle, King Maurice set out to arrange to have her taken away by any means necessary.

"Ah, King Maurice what a lovely surprise," The Evil Queen's voice was laced with sarcasm.

The Queen's outrageous, second-skin dress danced around her in unmistakable royalty. Her immaculate arrogance wore as vibrant as the ruby-red lipstick she wore on her chiseled lips; perfecting contrasting with her porcelain skin.

"Your majesty, always a pleasure," King Maurice made to stand before her, and by his side stood Gaston, one of his greatest knight's who was coincidentally engaged to Belle.

"I heard of your little problem with the _Ogre's_," the Evil Queen spoke of them in disgust, "I hear they are growing closer and closer by the hour."

"Yes, that is the reason for our visit. We would like to ask you for a favor? We'll pay, of course."

"What is it that you seek?" The Evil Queen showed little, if no, interest in the discussion.

"Do you know of any magic that could help send a person to a safe place?" The Evil Queen watched him incredulously; his question giving her a start.

"Yes, I do happen to know of a little magic that could send a _person_ to another land. Who exactly is this person we're speaking of?"

"Belle," Gaston interjected, and the Evil Queen looked at him as if she had just noticed he had been standing there for the entirety of the conversation.

"Belle, who's she? Oh, that's right she's your daughter," the Evil Queen gave a mocking laugh as she continued, "well I suppose I could find it in the _goodness_ of my heart to help my fellow neighbors," the Evil Queen, in the manner of her word expression, was silently asking for her pay.

"We have brought gold. Tell us how much would suffice for your services," King Maurice half-begged, and the Evil Queen grew annoyed.

"Gold. _Gold_. Do you think me as petty as to not have enough gold myself, that you need to bring me more? I don't want _gold_," again, she mocked disgust, "what I want is, well… a guard, a knight," her beady eyes settled upon Gaston now; her interest in him was growing rapidly.

"I'll help your precious little Belle, but in return I want this knight-"

"Gaston," Gaston interrupted her, making his presence known.

"Right," she spoke with little interest, "as I was saying, I want this _knight _to stay here and work for me, and your Belle well be guaranteed safety."

"Done," Maurice spoke without considering the offer or bothering to ask Gaston's opinion; Gaston looked betrayed, but as a knight he would obey his king.

"Excellent," the Evil Queen produced a small flask with a crimson liquid.

Tossing the dangerous fluid, the Evil Queen laughed as King Maurice struggled to catch the bottle in his hands nervous hands, slick with sweat.

"Princess Belle must drink the contents of the potion before midnight in order for the magic to work. I'm sure you can find your own way out. This knight and I have much to discuss if we are to save the damsel in distress," the Evil Queen feigned her care for Belle.

"Wait, what will it do to her?"

"Well, she'll be taken to safety, to a land without magic." a smug smile spread widely upon the Evil Queen's face.

"How do I know it's not poisoned?"

"I wouldn't be as silly as to give a king a poisoned potion for his daughter. It's not good for business if you kill off your clients. Now leave before I change my mind," with that King Maurice fled, leaving Gaston behind.

The doors slammed behind him, and the Evil Queen laughed her evil belly laugh.

"What a stupid fool," she began, and Gaston's eyes widened, and plastered themselves to her evil grinning face, "oh, what are you looking at."

Turning to watch the doors, the Evil Queen continued, "I shall destroy your happiness if it is the last thing I do."

In fact, the Evil Queen had already created a perfect plan to destroy Belle. She had not poisoned the potion, for that was too easy and she would rather have King Maurice's trust as that could be beneficial to her for future circumstances.

Once King Maurice was out of sight, she would steal Gaston's heart, have Belle drink the potion, which would send her to a land without magic as well as steal all her memory of Gaston, then she would send Gaston to the land without magic without any of his memories of his life in Avonlea, then have him grow close to Belle, and once she felt ready, she would order Gaston to kill Belle. The Evil Queen laughed, once again, as she replayed her evil plan in the silent confides of her mind. And just as King Maurice's carriage had exited her grounds, she turned to Gaston and promptly ripped his heart out.

* * *

Princess Belle's chestnut curls bounced merrily as she walked the many corridors of her immense palace. Never superficial or arrogant, Belle was loving, caring, and most importantly kind. Regardless of her position, Belle was always infatuated with learning, though she was often reprimanded by her father and, unfortunately, future husband Gaston.

Gaston suppressed her intellectual conversations at balls and gatherings in fear that people would think he was marrying a book rather than a beautiful lady. Women, after all, were only for show. The life of a woman held few expectations: to look stunning at all hours of the day, bear healthy children (preferably male), remain silent while in the presence of other men, and wear lovely smiles and jewels. Belle, of course, had always rebelled against the norms of ladylike etiquette, complaining it was too objectifying.

Gaston had laughed at her, and, much to Belle's sadness, so had her father. Now, as she walked, her nose firmly planted in the crack of her book, she paid no attention to her jewel-filled surroundings. Preferring a book over any diamond, Belle was viewed as odd. Society had always been cruel to her, and one of her most heartbreaking memories was when her father torn a book from her pleading hands (her favorite novel) and ripped the pages out in front of her. Crying wildly, she watched as the shredded pages lay shattered on the floor alongside her tattered heart. At times, her father could be ruthless, and perhaps even cruel.

Despite others opinions, she had always striven to improve her knowledge by reading countless books. War, adventure, love, power, malice, cruelty, medicine, science, mathematics, art, politics, and even family. Every topic was of interest to the lovely beauty who was too engrossed in her book to realize she had pasted her destination. Blushing madly, she turned and walked a few steps, finally entering her father's court, which was filled with noble knights straight off the battlefield. With a grim expression, King Maurice rose from his throne with the entrance of his daughter. Grasping the flask in his hand, concealed in the pocket of his cloak, he stepped forward to greet her. Setting her book on the table, she wrapped her arms around him lovingly, smiling widely when he returned the gesture, though he kept one hand in his pocket.

"Papa, you're back," Belle's voice rang with absolute delight.

"Yes," his voice was hitched, barely above a whisper.

"Is something wrong? Papa, you look pale. Have you gotten sick?" Belle worried; she felt her father's forehead, checking for fever, but he had none.

"No my darling, I just have…I have something…I have…I need to…Belle," he waited for a response.

"Yes," Belle was nervous; she knew her father was concealing _something_ and she feared what that _something_ could be.

"The Ogre's have gained land, and they are growing closer everyday. Before long, if this continues, they will attack the castle, and we will be forced to fight," Belle's expression fell; she was aware that sooner or later it would come to this.

"Belle, my beautiful little girl," Belle watched him intently as he continued, "I can't let any harm come to you. I won't," an edgy panic settled in the pit of Belle's stomach; his tone was unsettling her as she slowly began realizing why he had been sulking earlier, "Belle, I need you to drink this," he showed her the crimson liquid, "it will protect you. It will take you somewhere safe."

For a moment, Belle lost her voice; the sudden realization that her father was sending her away gave her icy chills, and pulled at her heart strings.

Recovering quickly she began with a start, "Papa, no. No! I refuse to leave. I could help you. We could be together. Please, papa!"

Nodding toward his knights, King Maurice sighed, knowing Belle would react this way. The knights grasped Belle, almost painfully, from behind, and held her steady as her father opened the flask and stepped toward her.

"Papa, what's happening? Why are you doing this? Please papa," tears streamed down her face.

Another guard grabbed her from behind the neck, and pulled her down so her face was facing the ceiling.

"Please!" She begged, struggling against the guards, desperately fighting to escape their inescapable hold.

"I am so sorry Belle, but it is for your own good," the king's voice spoke in monotone.

"Papa, papa, no!" She pressed her lips closed, as tightly as she could, not allowing him to pour the liquid.

She was forced to open her mouth when a guard plugged her nose. Tears streamed freely down her face, her chin, her neck, and finally landing on her chest. Yes, she thought, her father could be cruel at times. Pouring the liquid in her mouth, her father backed away. The guard held her nose, forcing her to swallow the distasteful fluid. The liquid burned her mouth and lips, and as she swallowed, it burned her throat. Tears fled her eyes from the pain. She wanted to scream, but could not manage to speak from the blistering heat in her throat. She wanted to run, but the guards held her firmly. She wanted to cry, and so she did. A crimson red smoke engulfed her then, and she wiggled against the guards. They retreated as the fog surrounded her, and as the fog disappeared so did Belle. The knights in shining armor had succeeded.

* * *

Amidst the glitter and glamour of a bustling Roaring Twenties, there lived a father and son with poor luck. Rumplestiltskin, a factory worker who became crippled in a war, made barely enough money for his son to eat, not to mention and small, he was surprisingly strong. Every penny he earned was used for his son and their survival; this prevented him from buying a cane so he used a wooden staff instead. Despite the staff, he walked at a fairy quick pace.

Though every step would radiate pain throughout his entire leg, he would never admit it. Everyday he would awake at four in the morning and travel from New York City to Manhattan to work arduously for fourteen hours with only two breaks. He worked six days a week. Paid poorly, his earnings would only allow him to buy food and cheap warm clothing. Heating was too expensive, so he used a wood burner stove in their one bedroom and one bathroom apartment. Firewood was an unnecessary expensive, for Rumplestiltskin would find wood and cardboard in the dumpster on his way home from work.

Bae, Rumplestiltskin's thirteen years old son, traveled with a friend, Moraine, to school every morning. They would walk together, a few miles, to the school building, but neither complained of the long walk as they felt they were in good company. Rumplestiltskin would often tease Bae saying he had a crush on Moraine; Bae would blush and deny it, though the truth was quite obvious. School let out at three, so Bae and Moraine would play with the other children until Rumplestiltskin showed up at five o'clock to walk them both home.

It was dangerous to wander at night, especially for young children or a woman who traveled alone, hence Rumplestiltskin's decision in traveling the extra miles to deliver the children home safely. The trio turned into a dark alleyway. Lit by only one street lamp, their surroundings were dimmed. Halfway through the alleyway there was a door to the right that led into their apartment complex. Rumplestiltskin led the way, but stopped abruptly when he noticed a golden dressed figure laying face down on the cement floor just a few steps in front of the door.

* * *

The air was laced with an ungodly smell of cheap cigarettes and raw sewage. Belle's face was plastered against the cold cement floor. Her eyes fluttered open, and her vision was faded and blurred. Blinking quickly, her vision restored to normal, and she noticed the awful burning in her throat. It reminded her of the time she was sick and coughed all night leaving her throat raw and painful.

Her nursemaid had given her a spoonful of sugar, which seemed to have soothed her injured throat. Belle wished her nursemaid was here now to hold her and sing her to sleep. Belle had never had a mother, for she died in childbirth; her nursemaid had been the closest to mother Belle had ever come to know. Once Belle had reached her teenage years, her father said she no longer needed a nursemaid and, despite Belle's pleading cries, he sent her away, leaving Belle alone and distraught. Never had Belle been as miserable as the day she lost her nursemaid. Now lying on the cold floor, tears leaked from her eyes at the unfortunate memory of her lost nursemaid.

When she finally gathered enough strength to sit, she felt dizzy and her body ached; she must have been lying on the ground for quite some time. Moaning in discomfort, she used her arms to prop herself up. Looking around, she was half-startled by what she discovered. There were buildings, and blackened darkness all around her. There was a street lamp which illuminated three darkened figures watching her, and Belle grew fearful. She could not make out their faces, and wondered if she would be killed, or worse, tortured.

"Please," she begged, finally finding her voice, "please, I-I-I'm lost," she stuttered in fear, her ears pounded with her racing heartbeat.

"Shhh," the tallest figure cooed, "it's alright."

Belle felt her eyelids grow heavy; her nerves had weakened in her journey and she knew she was fainting. She fought against it, but the invisible force of exhaustion was too overpowering and she felt herself slipping deeper and deeper.

"Please," she whispered, barely audible, before she slipped into unconsciousness, once again.

When Belle had spoken, Rumplestiltskin had taken two steps closer to her. Dumbfounded by her beauty, and terrified at the realization that she was a woman, he kept his distance. Bae asked incredulously, "Papa, is she…is she a princess?" The question was due to her glittering golden gown pooling around her pale figure, and her silky curls spilling around her.

"No, she's just a scared and confused woman," Rumplestiltskin began, keeping his eyes glued to the beauty lying upon the floor.

"Let's try to awake her," Bae stepped toward her only to be stopped by Rumplestiltskin's hand.

He quickly interjected, "No, no boy. Let her be," Rumplestiltskin did not want to involve himself in anything that could bring trouble.

"Papa, we can't just leave her here…she'll freeze," Bae protested, and Rumplestiltskin looked uneasy.

"Bae, take Moraine inside, and then I want you to wait for me at home."

"But, Papa," Bae griped.

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin scolded.

"Yes, papa," Bae reluctantly took Moraine by the hand and lead her inside.

Rumplestiltskin was left outside in the alleyway, alone, with Belle lying unconscious on the ground. If a passerby was to see him they would most likely think the worst, and Rumplestiltskin already knew this was a bad idea. He approached her slowly, in case she awoke to prevent from startling her; he crouched by her side and gasped as he finally saw her features clearly. She was beautiful! The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His jaw dropped at the sight, and his breath left his weathered lungs.

He was about to try and wake her when he heard, "My, my, my what do we have here?"

Rumplestiltskin, startled by the booming voice, fell back and landed on his behind. It was Gaston, the town menace. He was arrogant and tall with perfectly combed black hair; he had a gallant air, which attracted all the ladies in the apartment complex.

"Have you gotten that desperate Rumplestiltskin that you have to take advantage of young ladies?" Gaston mocked him.

Sneering in disgust, Gaston gazed at Rumplestiltskin sitting on the ground.  
"No-no-no, I was trying to help her. I just found her. I was walking Bae home from school and I found her here and she-"

"Of course you were," Gaston interrupted, "never mind you. I shall rescue her who ever she is."

Gaston leaned down to retrieve the girl, and much to Rumplestiltskin's surprise his staff collided with Gaston's right knee cap.

"Ouch! You stupid cripple, that hurt!" Gaston howled in pain.

"Don't touch her," Rumplestiltskin began, his voice was hoarse with fear; he wouldn't allow Gaston to put his filthy hands on such a beauty as the girl before them, even if she was a complete stranger.

"Oh is she yours or something because I highly doubt it. Who could want you," Gaston's face grew closer to Rumplestiltskin's in attempts to intimidate him and back him into submission, "you're a disgusting old cripple."

Sitting on the cold, wet floor Rumplestiltskin felt awful, but he would not let Gaston have the girl because, unlike Rumplestiltskin, Gaston would take advantage of her.

"She's f-family," Rumplestiltskin lied with a stutter.

"Is that so?" Rumplestiltskin nodded.

"Something tells me you're lying, and that I should just take her anyway," before Gaston could continue Bae arrived in the doorway.

"Bae, son, get back inside," Rumplestiltskin called in a hurry.

"I wanted to come help," Bae stepped closer to his father, and helped him off the ground, much to Rumplestiltskin's relief.

"Bae, please, I told you to wait inside."

"She needs help, papa."

"Ah, so the young one comes to save the day," Gaston began, and Bae noticed him for the first time.

"Tell me Rumplestiltskin, is he a coward like you?" Rumplestiltskin bowed his head as if he had just been slapped.

He shamefully watched the floor while Bae frowned at the rude comment. Rumplestiltskin wished to cry and would have, but Belle moaned, calling everyone's attention. Everyone fell silent, even Gaston. Belle's eyes opened slowly. Spotting the three men surrounding her, she quickly sat up and pushed herself back until she hit a brick wall.

The youngest one came closer to her, "It's alright. No one's going to hurt you," Belle took comfort in his words.

"Where am I?" Belle murmured, slowly gaining trust of the young teen.

"New York," the boy approached her slowly not wishing to frighten her anymore, "you were laying on the ground, and my papa and I found you."

The boy pointed to the crippled man standing behind him. On the crippled man's other side stood a tall, scaring looking fellow that Belle felt uneasy around. She didn't understand why, but she felt she knew him from somewhere.

"I seemed to have traveled far. I have never heard of New Yark before," Bae giggled at her mistake and Belle looked at him confused.

"New York, not New Yark," Belle blushed, embarrassed by her mistake.

Bae, encouraged by her reaction, stepped closer, she watched him with weary eyes, "May I help you stand?"

Belle contemplated his offer for a moment then silently nodded in response. Bae gave her his hand, she took it appreciatively. Once she was standing, she discerned that her body was indeed very sore, but luckily the fire in her throat was finally calming.

"Well, I have a date. Good luck with this," Gaston pointed toward Belle in mock repulsiveness; Belle, on the other hand, was still trying to remember how she knew him and didn't notice his insult.

Rumplestiltskin was grateful for when Gaston finally left; he didn't understand how any man could show so little interest for the beauty before them. Now standing Belle observed her surroundings, and felt frightened by everything her eyes beheld. She had never seen anything like this place, and it was so drastically different than her home. She wanted to return to Avonlea, but did not know the way back. Then there was this boy who was standing be her side trying to help her, and crippled man who wouldn't meet her gaze. Rumplestiltskin kept his gaze on the floor too ashamed to glance at the beauty in the eyes.

"My name's Bae and this is my father Rumplestiltskin. What's yours?" Rumplestiltskin gave his son a look of warning, but Bae ignored him; he wanted to help the lady like the knights in his fairytale books.

"Belle. My name is Princess Belle," Rumplestiltskin smirked, for he believed she was joking. Bae, on the other hand, believed her.

"You're a princess! A _real _princess! I knew it. Didn't I tell you papa? I told you she was a princess," Bae was clearly excited, and his eagerness made Belle smile; Rumplestiltskin risked a glance at her just as she smiled, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating.

He quickly replaced his glance to floor not wanting her to think he was staring at her, though he gladly would stare at her for the rest of eternity if she would allow him. She was beautiful, and the way she smiled was so warming and loving.

"Miss, I don't mean to be rude, but it's getting late. Perhaps you should be getting home," Belle watched Rumplestiltskin as he spoke fretfully.

"I-I-I don't know where home is," Belle stated pathetically, and her face scrunched as if she were about to cry.

Rumplestiltskin watched her then, and the sight broke his heart; he wanted to wrap her in his arms and make her pain go away. She seemed so innocent and kind; she shouldn't feel so much pain.

"You're lost," Bae stated, saddened by the maiden's distress.

"Yes, and-and-and I'm very frightened," Belle could feel the tears starting to sting her eyes, but she wouldn't allow them to spill, not yet at least.

"Well, you can stay with us," Bae quickly turned to his father, silently begging the man to yield, "can't she papa?"

Before Rumplestiltskin could deny her stay, Belle spoke, "Oh, no, I couldn't. I don't want to intrude. It would be awfully rude of me."

Rumplestiltskin didn't know what to do. He wanted to help her, but he simply couldn't afford another mouth to feed. Rumplestiltskin met her gaze. God, she was beautiful, and that could be dangerous for her if she was wandering in the streets alone and at night. Rumplestiltskin thought of Gaston, and the possibility of him finding this woman who called herself Belle, alone and defenseless. The thought infuriated Rumplestiltskin, and he looked Belle in her beautiful cerulean eyes, which pleasantly reminded him of the ocean and the bluest skies, and spoke, "You can stay, for one night, or at least until we find where you belong."

Belle's eyes lit up, as did Bae's, and Rumplestiltskin had never seen a more beautiful sight. Belle stepped closer, and Rumplestiltskin froze. She was so incredibly close to him; he thought she was going to kiss him, but instead she flung her arms around him and whispered in a voice that sounded like angels singing, "Thank you. You are very kind."

Rumplestiltskin had never heard a more wonderful voice. He could very well speak, much less react to her action, and simply stood straight as an arrow until she released her hold around him. After a moment, Rumplestiltskin collected his thoughts.

Winning back his voice, he comforted her in saying, "It's no matter, dearie," he continued pointing toward the door, "After you…milady."

Belle giggled, and the sound sent a waterfall of electricity shooting up Rumplestiltskin's spine. This was a bad idea, but he couldn't careless. The three walked through the door, and out of the unpleasant alleyway. They journeyed up the stairs and into Rumplestiltskin and Bae's home with Belle as their grateful guest.

* * *

Their home was small, Belle observed, but it breathed comfort and coziness which Belle found irresistible. There were only two rooms throughout the entirety of the apartment. At the far right corner there was a small bathroom, and then there was the living room which was also their kitchen, bedroom, dining room, and laundry room. Rumplestiltskin, embarrassed by their humble home, watched his feet. He knew Belle was probably accustomed to riches, and his home had no riches and was an eye sore.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quietly, "I know it's probably not what you're used too-"

"It's absolutely wonderful," Belle interrupted him, her voice bright and honest.

Rumplestiltskin thought she was being polite, but she spoke with pure sincerity, leaving Rumplestiltskin completely stunned.

"You can sleep on my bed," Bae offered pointing toward the couch, and Belle noticed there were no beds.

"Where do you sleep?" Belle asked turning toward Rumplestiltskin whose color slightly heightened at the fact that she was curious about him.

"On the floor, by the wood burner stove. Bae sleeps on the couch, but you'll sleep there tonight," Belle frowned.

"Nonsense, I won't discomfort you with my stay. I'll sleep on the floor, and Bae can have the couch," Rumplestiltskin looked at her; his jaw dropped.

Was she being serious?

"But you're our guest," Bae insisted.

"Yes, but this is your home, and nothing should change because of my arrival," Belle stated, a wide smile spreading across her face, "Now, have you eaten at all today?"

The question was meant for both of them, but Bae answered with a sluggish no.

"Well then perhaps I could make you something. I'm a very good cook," Rumplestiltskin wanted to crawl into a whole when she opened the ice box and found it completely bare.

Not a single item of food was in their entire house.

"Oh," Belle whispered, "Haven't you enough to buy food?"

She turned to Rumplestiltskin now, who could only manage to shake his head in humiliation.

"Humph," she pouted, almost childlike, causing Bae to bite back a laugh.

What she did next shocked both Bae and Rumplestiltskin; she took a golden coin out of a fold in her golden gown and handed it to Bae. She instructed him to go to a market and buy food for the three, and with whatever was left over he could buy himself some sweets. Bae smiled widely, as he looked at his father with wide eyes. Rumplestiltskin was, once again, baffled into silence by the beauty. Bae, being a smart and selfless boy, planned to buy dinner for tonight, and he would spend the left over on bread and milk for tomorrow's breakfast. He clutched the golden coin with all his might; with a golden coin, he could very well buy a car, and he wasn't about to lose it.

"Go on now, and be careful," she smiled at Bae as he made for the door.

Rumplestiltskin didn't want his son traveling alone, so he called to him just as Bae stepped out the door, "Bae, ask if Moraine can come with you and please hurry back."

"Yes, Papa," he answered obediently, then left, closing the door behind him, leaving a cowardly cripple with a brave, and beautiful beauty.

Sufficiently nervous, Rumplestiltskin began to pace his own house, while Belle sat peacefully on the couch, calmly awaiting Bae's return. Lying down, she rested her head on the armrest, causing Rumplestiltskin to nearly jump out of his own skin. _What is she doing?_ Belle sighed, her sore muscles enjoying the rest; her exhaustion pleasantly washing over her. Forcing her eyelids open, Belle blinked rapidly, trying to rid herself of the tiredness. Just as she began dosing off, Bae arrived with food in hand. He burst through the door making an unsuspecting Rumplestiltskin flinch, thankfully no one noticed.

"Bae, you're back. Good, good thing, I was starting to worry. Did you go with Moraine?"

"Yes, I bought her a sweet with the extra money. I hope it's alright," Bae turned to direct his question toward Belle, but Belle had lost her battle against exhaustion.

She had fallen asleep with her hands tucked beneath her angelic face; Rumplestiltskin watched as her chest rose and fell, then he cursed himself for taking such a liberty of admiring her in her sleep.

He thought of waking her, so she could eat, but she looked so comfortable in her sleep that he didn't have the heart to disturb her. He let her rest instead, and in the morning she would eat. Her golden gown had washed over the couch, overflowing onto the ground; Rumplestiltskin didn't want the beautiful fabric to dirty anymore than it already had, so he gently lifted the corners and tucked them under her leg. The soft silk kissed his beaten hands.

"Bae, why don't you go eat and I'll get Belle something warm to wrap herself with," Bae did as his father said, happy that he had some real food to eat.

Rumplestiltskin searched throughout the house for their softest, and warmest blanket, for the beauty sleeping peacefully on his couch deserved the best. Once he found a blanket that would suffice, he returned to her sleeping form. Gently opening the blanket above her and watching as it floated down, caressing her like a mother's arms, he stepped away. Admiring her, he noticed her lips were plump, full, and kissable. _No!_ No, not kissable. _For gods sake, she's half your age! What's gotten into you?_ Rumplestiltskin berated himself, all the while keeping his eyes focused on her wonderful pale face. Her lips parted slightly as her jaw went slack with sleep.

Her chestnut curls cascaded around her, wrapping around her cream-skinned neck like vines; he wanted to curl one around his finger-_no!_ Rumplestiltskin instantly drew back from her sleeping form disgusted with himself. She was perfect, and he was tainting her with his improper thoughts. She was a lady, and needed to be treated as such. Bae had already set the table for two, but Rumplestiltskin, despite his hunger, did not have an appetite for food. He craved the beauty sleeping so peacefully on his couch, and for the life of him, he couldn't push the feeling away.

"Papa, aren't you going to eat?" Bae asked when he noticed his father placing his staff on the floor, and began curling himself next to the wood burner stove.

Shrugging, his father tiredly replied, "Maybe in the morning…goodnight son."

"Goodnight, Papa," Bae frowned, confused by his father's behavior, but quickly tossed the thought aside and devoured his portion of the meal.

Once his belly was full he lay beside his father, stealing a quick glance at Belle and grinned at her sleeping form, he allowed the waves of exhaustion to drown him in deep sleep. Bae dreamt that night; he dreamt of Rumplestiltskin's happily ever after with a brave princess named Belle.

* * *

It felt like from the beginning of his life, from the very day that he was born, Rumplestiltskin had worked. He would awake every day at the exact same hour. Today, like any other day, he awoke at three thirty in order to make it to work by four. Ignoring the screaming muscles in his back bellowing their endless protest, he rose, collecting his staff. He had a routine built, and today, just like always, he relieved himself, splashed cold water on his face, and ate a small piece of bread with half a cup of milk.

Bae did not have to wake for a couple hours, so he did his best to keep his noise to the minimum. He sipped on his milk, grateful for something to fill his stomach, and that's when it hit him. Like a ton of bricks, he realized he hadn't bought bread. In fact the ice box had been empty. His eyes went wide when he turned to the couch, realizing he hadn't dreamt of the beauty named Belle, for he caught sight of her golden gown, and he wanted to fall to his knees at the wonderful reality that she was real. She was still here.

Rumplestiltskin, as quiet as a mouse if not quieter, crept closer to the couch. All he wanted was a glimpse of her face, but like quicksand was devouring him he lost himself in her beauty. Helplessly staring at her, he tried to understand how Belle could ever manage to smile so beautifully at him. Then suddenly she stretched, freezing Rumplestiltskin in place. He looked away quickly, hoping she hadn't caught him staring. She hadn't awoken though; she had simply changed position on the couch.

Rumplestiltskin cursed himself. Of course, she would be uncomfortable, the couch was old and rough and not fit for such a perfect woman as Belle. It wasn't just her looks that he liked, albeit he thought they were wonderful, but it was the way in which she thought of him, and how she smiled at him. There was a certain light in her eyes that twinkled when she looked at him, and it gave him a nebulous hope that he tried desperately to suppress, and this hope made his heart race to an almost unbearable speed. He sighed, quickly gulping down the last sips of milk, and collected his coat. If he didn't hurry he would be late. He stole one last glance at Bae then Belle and, almost painfully, he closed the door, walking away, willing himself to begin another agonizingly long day.

Belle awoke to a sun ray shining directly in her face. Her eyes squinted adjusting to the brightness when they fluttered open. It was then she realized she wasn't in her bedchamber, or in her castle. Suddenly, a wave of memories crashed upon her thoughts, and she recalled Bae and Rumplestiltskin, and a warm smile spread across her cheeks. Thinking to herself, she recalled Rumplestiltskin's handsome face and his gorgeous honey brown eyes that simply screamed storytelling. He'd always shy away from her gaze and it hurt her in someway. Figuring he wasn't attracted to her, she tried to not think of him, a task that was easier said than done. Sitting up quickly, she stretched out her arms and yawned in a very unladylike manner. She wanted to see him, and desired to wish him a happy morning, but when she awoke there was no one there. No Rumplestiltskin; no Bae. Her smile fell, and she suddenly felt very alone. They had just left her. Before she could think of it any further, the bathroom door swung open and a cheerful Bae walked out.

"Belle, you're awake!" Belle's smile returned with new excitement; he hadn't left her.

It was silly of her to think that they would just leave her all alone.

"Bae!" She stood and embraced the teenage, squeezing him with much enthusiasm.

"Belle, I-I can't breathe," he joked, and Belle released him with a gleeful laugh.

"Would you like some breakfast?" Bae offered and Belle nodded eagerly.

She hadn't eaten anything since…she preferred not to think of it, so she quickly brushed the thought away focusing on Bae instead.

"And your father?" Belle wished to see his face, and indulge the sight of his beautiful brown eyes.

"He left for work," Bae replied biting happily into a piece of bread; Belle's smile faltered slightly, "He always leaves early because he has to be at the factory by four."

"At four in the morning?"

"Yes," Bae was saddened that his father had to work such long hours, but they had no choice.

"That's terrible," Belle brushed her fingertips against her bottom lip as she continued, "he must be awfully tired."

"I think he is, but he never shows it."

She wanted to ask Bae more questions, but her stomach growled making both of them laugh.

"Here," Bae passed her some bread and jam, and glass of ice cold milk, "try it, it's good."

Belle ate fervently; she hadn't realized how hungry she was until she took her first bite. The bread and jam hadn't satisfied her hunger much, but the glass of milk seemed to fill her up right away. Once he finished his glass of milk Belle laugh, for he had a milk mustache. She leaned over with a napkin and cleaned him off; he fidgeted against her as any child with a mother trying to clean their face would.

"There," Belle spoke, once Bae was cleaned she sighed, satisfied with herself, "now, don't you have school to go to."

"Yes, but I…well, I've have to leave you here all alone."

"I'll be fine. I'll be here when you return. I promise," Bae looked at her sorrowfully.

"You promise you'll be here when I get back?"

"You have my word," she kissed him on the cheek, and half-shoved him out the door.

"Go on now, or you'll be late, and I won't have you being late," she followed him to the door, and watched as Moraine and he walked down the stairs. Once they disappeared she closed the door. Turning around, she paused observing the apartment in daylight, for it looked much different. She noticed dirty dishes, dust, and dirty clothes thrown about.

"Well, they are boys after all," she giggled.

Determined to have the house spotless for the boys return, she set out to work.

* * *

After a long days work, Rumplestiltskin was finally on his way home. Today had been payday, and cursed at yet another low paycheck. Before picking up Bae and Moraine he stopped at the market and bought more bread, jam, milk, and ham. He was about to pay when he noticed a rose in the flower stand, and pictured Belle smiling at him when he handed it too her. He couldn't help himself; he grabbed the flower and added it to his items.

He paid, and set a quick pace to reach the school as soon as possible. His leg was sore, more than usual, and the faster he walked the more it seemed to sting. Ignoring it, he pressed forward. He reached the school in a reasonable amount of time. Bae and Moraine were already waiting for him. Together they began their journey home. Handing two bags to Bae, Rumplestiltskin held the bag with the rose, mindful not to bend it or let Bae or Moraine see it.

Leading the way, Rumplestiltskin conveniently walked further ahead in hopes that his son and Moraine would feel comfortable speaking with each other in his presence. A smirk appeared on his lips when they began whispering to each other. They arrived home surprisingly quickly; both Bae and Rumplestiltskin were eager to greet Belle. After having to spend an entire day without her, they desperately wished to check to see if she had indeed stayed. Once Moraine was home they half-ran toward their door; Rumplestiltskin managed his fastest walk, for he could not run. Bae turned the knob before he could and stepped in; Rumplestiltskin followed but froze dead in his tracks at the sight he beheld. Their home…it was…_clean_.

"Wow," Bae whispered, "I didn't know it could look so…nice."

The corners of Rumplestiltskin's mouth curved up into a smile, "Indeed."

"Do you like it?" Her voice was like that of an angel, and that was the voice Rumplestiltskin had been waiting all day to hear.

He had rushed home if only to hear it sooner and she had finally spoken. She came out of the bathroom with a rag in hand, and Rumplestiltskin was surprised to discover she no longer wore her golden gown, but a sky blue dress that ended just below her knee. She had white ruffled sleeves, and a low cut bodice, which hugged her small figure perfectly.

Bae ran to her, and Rumplestiltskin's heart warmed, at the sight of them embracing lovingly.

"I hope you don't mind, but I went to the market and bought fabric for my dress," she walked closer to him and Rumplestiltskin grew shaky in the knees.

"No, no, you are welcome to do as you please," he began, not sure of what to say.

"Do you like my dress?" Belle asked excitedly, twirling so he could see the entirety of it. He smiled at her, and his gaze fell to the floor frightened that she would be angry with him. When she didn't yell at him, he responded, "Yes," then shyly added, "You look beautiful."

She smiled widely that radiant smile that he had hoped, all day, he would see. It reminded him of the rose, but now he hesitated in giving it to her. She had spent her whole day cleaning their home, and he had brought her a silly little flower. He sighed thinking he couldn't very well throw it out without her noticing (that's one thing he knew about women, there's nothing that can be hidden from them because they eventually find out). Reaching in the bag, he pulled out the rose, holding it behind his back, wishing to surprise her.

"I-I brought you something," he began nervously and she looked at him with cheerful oceanic eyes.  
_Why would she look at me so lovingly and sweet?_

He pulled the rose from behind his back, allowing her to see it.

"Here…if you'll have it," he watched her face hopefully, admiring the way her cheeks reddened.  
"It's beautiful," she spoke delighted, smelling the rose, and enjoying its incredibly sweet fragrance, "why, thank you."

She beamed at him and it made him, much to his dread, blush. Her expression fell, if only for a moment, as if she were thinking of something. Then, she timidly reached up and kissed his cheek. He thought he'd faint from losing the ability to breathe.

Her eyes sparkled with a new found light then she turned and made for the kitchen. _What were you thinking? Impulsive, girl! He going to think your crazy, but that's only assuming he doesn't already think it. _

Scolding herself, she looked for a vase to place the rose in. She licked her lips, for they tingled with the sensation of his scratchy stubble brushing against them; she reached for a tea cup deeming it to be a good vase for her rose. Her hands were shaky with the sudden rush of simply kissing his cheek that the cup slipped from her fingers, and spilled onto the floor.

"Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry," she retrieved the cup and noticed a slight chip in the rim, "I'm _so_ sorry…it's-it's chipped…I could fix it, or if you'd like I could buy you-" her nervous rambling was silenced by a finger placed gently upon her lips.

Rumplestiltskin, after composing himself from her glorious kiss, had walked in front of her and place his finger upon her lips. They were soft, warm, welcoming, and dangerously tempting.

Removing his hand from her lips he spoke, "No need to fret. It's just a cup, dearie, nothing to worry about, really," she relaxed, and he chuckled.

Tension filled the air as Belle lost herself in the chocolate pools of his eyes. His cheek twitched from the intensity of her gaze. A moment passed until Rumplestiltskin realized he still carried the bags in hand. Bae had silently been watching the events unfold, and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face at the sight of his father and Belle together. His father, Bae knew, was in love, and it appeared to Bae that Belle shared the feeling.

"Well," Belle, clasping her hands together, spoke, "shall we dine?"

Bae sniggered at her formality, but quickly nodded.

Rumplestiltskin set the table; his leg protested violently with every movement. Belle noticed his limp was far more pronounced today and wanted to ask him about it, but she decided it wasn't her place and left it at that. The three sat at the table, and for a moment Rumplestiltskin allowed himself to picture them as a small family. He captured the moment, silently hoping it would last forever. Belle and Bae began attacking their meals, but Rumplestiltskin simply sat back and watched. Belle, curious as to why he wasn't eating, asked, "Are you not hungry?"

"Um…no…no, not really," he lied.

His stomach ached with hungry, but he never ate in front of his son. Rumplestiltskin would wait for Bae to eat first, and once Bae was asleep Rumplestiltskin would eat. Perhaps the nonsensical act was a part of his belief in his cowardice.

Rumplestiltskin stood suddenly, and Belle wondered if she had upset him with her question.

"I haven't fixed the roof yet and it's supposed to snow soon," he stated, "I'll go do that now. You two enjoy your food," he left, leaving Belle disconcerted with his abrupt mood change.

"What was he talking about?" Belle whispered, though Rumplestiltskin was no where near.

"There is a hole in the roof, and when it snows it gets inside. He tried talking to the landlord, but they won't listen to him," Belle frowned.

"Why not?" Bae stopped eating, and lowered his bread.

His expression fell, and Belle sensed his discomfort.

"People don't like my father very much…" Bae began.

"Why?" Belle encouraged him to continue.

She wanted to know more of Rumplestiltskin; she wanted to know _him_.

Bae shifted uneasily in his seat, "Well…they say he's a coward because…because he ran from war."

Belle's brows knitted together. She had never known that Rumplestiltskin had been in war, and she assumed that's how he injured his leg. She thought for a moment and couldn't understand how people could shut him out, "No one is a coward for being afraid. It's only human. It's instinct!"

"That's what I thought, but no one else saw it that way…until you," Bae gave her a small smile and continued, "He believes them. I think that's why he doesn't eat with me."

And all of a sudden, Belle understood why Rumplestiltskin never met her gaze, and drew away from her at times. He thought he was unworthy of her. Rumplestiltskin would wait to eat as punishment for his cowardice, but there was no reason to. Belle grimaced as her heart moaned with the unhappiness of the entirety of the situation. Rumplestiltskin was friendless, treated terribly, and worst of all he believed he deserved it. Belle wanted to cry, or run to him and embrace him in an inescapable hug. She wanted him to know that he wasn't a coward, and that everyone else was simply blind. She sighed with annoyance then stood abruptly. Taking some bread and cup of milk in hand, she made for the door.

"Will you be alright while I take this to your father?" Belle asked, turning the knob.

"Yes…you should know though to get to the roof you have to take the stairs that are outside and around the building; it's the only way," Bae informed, and she smiled at him grateful for the advice.

Following Bae's instructions, Belle arrived at the top of the building. Rumplestiltskin was crouched working on a shingle and hadn't noticed her arrival. She stepped onto the flat roof, and crept up behind him. Belle coughed making Rumplestiltskin jump. Belle hadn't meant to frighten him, but she had done so by accident. He flew forward and before Belle could react he hit his head on the brick ledge.

"Oh! Oh, are you alright?" She asked in a rush.

He didn't answer right away, and it frightened her more. Setting the milk and bread on the ledge, she ran to his side. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she helped him sit up right. He had dropped his staff, and it lay off to his side just out of reach. Her eyes met his, and there lips were mere inches apart.

All she had to do was lean in to taste his lips, but she noticed blood seeping down his forehead and began with a start, "You're bleeding! Oh, I'm so sorry this is all my fault."

She pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket in her blue dress, and gently pressed it against his wound; he inhaled sharply as it stung terribly.

"I'm sorry," Belle blinked back tears, dabbing away the blood.

The position in which she leaned toward him gave him an excellent view of her bosom and once he realized what he had done he wanted to kick himself for the act.

He grew fearful that he had been caught but relaxed when she asked, "Does it hurt?"

"It's quite alright dearie…it's-it's just a scratch. It wasn't your fault. I should be more careful," her gaze met his, and he could see her inner torment and dread.

Somehow, in the midst of her ministrations, their breathing hitched, their hearts quickened pace, and their lips grew closer together. And just as there lips were about to meet; he turned, reached for his staff, and slowly stood. Belle followed his motions, looking away sheepishly.

"You should go inside, it's very cold and you might get sick," he spoke quietly, almost afraid.

"You could get sick too. Don't you worry about yourself getting sick?" He met her gaze and she continued, "Don't you think you deserved to be warmed when it's cold?" Awestruck by her question, he remained silent, and then returned his gaze to his feet. Belle approached him and slipped a finger beneath his chin forcing his eyes to meet hers.

"Did I ever tell you, you have beautiful eyes?" Rumplestiltskin blushed furiously at her praise and turned away, abandoning her finger mid-air.

"Please Belle, I won't have you getting sick," Rumplestiltskin stood with his back to her, so she came up behind him.

Placing a hand on his trembling shoulder, she turned him, making him face her once again.

"Rumplestiltskin," the sound of his name on her lips sent waves of joy flooding through him, "You are a very kind man."

He nodded, accepting her compliment, and she drew back toward the ledge where she had previously set down the bread and milk.

"I brought you dinner," she handed it to him, and he timidly took it mindful not to dirty her hands with his.

"Your cut stopped bleeding. I don't think it'll need stitching, but perhaps you'll allow me to clean it once we're inside?"

"Thank you," she beamed at his response.

He nibbled on the bread which eventually became hearty bites. He was hungry. Quickly gulping down the milk, he finished his food, and looked up to find Belle watching him, spellbound. He coughed lightly, and it knocked her from her daydream.

"Have you finished with the roof, or could I help you?" She waited expectantly.

"No, I think it'll hold for now," she smiled and nodded.

"Let me take you inside…it really is getting too cold and I don't want you to get sick," Rumplestiltskin walked to the stairs and waited for her to follow. He allowed her to start climbing down, following right behind her. He struggled with stairs because of his knee, and Belle would gladly wait for him when he fell behind.

Once they reached the ground Belle turned around and looped her arm around his. Together, they walked home. It was then Rumplestiltskin realized that the cup he had drunk his milk from had been the cup his beautiful Belle had chipped, and small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Belle guided Rumplestiltskin over the threshold. Curled up on the couch was Bae, he had not waited for their return to fall asleep, much to Rumplestiltskin's relief; Bae had school in the morning, and would have to awake early. Taking the tea cup from his hand, Belle placed the cup on the kitchen counter and ordered him to sit at the table while she brought some medicines to address his wound. He compiled, grateful for a moment to rest his knee.

She returned from the bathroom with a small box in hand. Setting it on the table, she pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. She opened the box and chose a small bottle. Opening the bottle, she poured the liquid onto a cloth towel, and used it to clean his wound. It stung, she knew, so she stood momentarily to blow air which eased the pain then returned to her sitting position. Once the wound was cleaned, she coated it with a cream that would help it heal faster. He thanked her once she had finished, and she waved him off. It was then she caught a glimpse of Bae's sleeping figure, and a sudden thought struck her, "Does he miss her?" She spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Bae.

"Who?"

"His mother," Belle waited patiently for a response.

"I'd imagine so," Rumplestiltskin's expression was morose as he spoke; his tone wore a thick layer of sorrow.

"What happened to her?" Belle regretted the question the moment it left her lips. _Damn curiosity!_

Rumplestiltskin didn't mind her curiosity and explained to her in a quiet voice, "Milah was her name. She and I had been having trouble for some time. I thought she was finally accepting our life here, but I was wrong."

"How did you know?"

"Because one day…she left," Rumplestiltskin turned to Belle and watched her gaze fall upon Bae.

"She just left," Belle spoke in heartbroken amazement.

"She just left," Rumplestiltskin confirmed.

"How old was he?" Belle had so many questions; it was proving difficult not to ask them all at once.

"Seven, old enough for him to remember her," Belle swallowed the lump in her throat.

Rumplestiltskin's gaze was drawn toward Bae and he watched as Bae's chest rose and fell with a peaceful rhythm. Then he felt a warm hand on his, and he froze but soon relaxed. She curled her fingers around his, and squeezed gently. Her hands were so very soft. She leaned toward him, his gaze still turned to Bae, and she whispered, "I am so sorry for you both."

He looked at her then, and smiled sadly, "Well, it's all in the past," he glanced out the window and decided it was late, "but, enough of that. It's time for bed."

Bae had taken the couch and Rumplestiltskin stood contemplating what to do. _Wake Bae, or have Belle sleep on the floor? _Belle answered the question for him when she curled up by the stove, tucking the blanket beneath her chin. Now that his spot was taken he wondered where he should lay, but Belle quickly waved him over. He wasn't sure if he should, but she encouraged him with her eyes and a small nod.

Rumplestiltskin laid his staff on the floor beside the stove and joined Belle on floor. He turned to face opposite from her, but she stopped him and pushed herself closer to him, nuzzling her face under his chin. She didn't care if it was impolite or wrong; she wanted him close to her and she no longer wished to hide it. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to beat right out of it, but he gradually relaxed. Belle sighed. Emboldened by her comfort, he wrapped his arms around her small frame, pleased when she did not push him away. Belle fell asleep enveloped in his embrace and never had she slept as peacefully as she did that night.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin's eyelids shot open, as if he had just been doused in ice cold water. Never, in any of his recollection, had he ever been late for work, except for today. Belle, beautiful, gentle, and angelic as she was, slept wrapped in his arms, her head lay above his heart. He slipped out from underneath her, careful not to disturb her sleep. Adrenaline shot through him, as he rapidly moved about the house, grabbing his staff and limping wildly for the door. He didn't relieve himself, or splash cold water on his face; he didn't eat bread with a half glass of milk.

He didn't execute his normal routine, and already he could sense the horribleness of the day. Without Belle's warmth to comfort him, he walked as quickly as he could. Keeping his thoughts focused on work, he attempted to suppress the angry pains in his body, especially the vicious growling of his hungry stomach. The sky was still dark with night, and the air had an unsettling chilliness as he finally approached, a place worse than prison, the factory. They would be angry, he knew. The fact alone made him want to run away; made him want to run back to Belle and her sweet warmth, smile, and touch. He had no choice, though. If he ran he wouldn't be able to pay for necessities; Bae and him would be left on the street, so he walked forward through the factory doors and waited for the torture to commence.

* * *

Belle sighed herself awake, rolled her shoulders, then stretched her arms, and eventually sat up. Right away, Belle detected something was off; her body felt weak and fatigued. Belle's legs ached and so did her arms. She brushed off the pains believing they were the result of sleeping on the floor. Quickly checking for Rumplestiltskin, she remembered he had work and wouldn't let herself be hurt by his absence. Bae had already awakened, and was eating breakfast at the table when she stood.

"Good morning," Belle spoke in a cheerful tone, though another wave of achy muscles crashed upon her when she stood.

"Belle, your up. Good morning," Bae prepared another piece of bread with jam for her to eat.

"How did you sleep?" Belle questioned with sincere curiosity.

Bae looked at her sheepishly, "I forgot I was supposed to sleep on the ground-"

"Shhh, none of that. In all honesty, I-I'm kind of glad you didn't," Belle giggled, blushing at the memory of sleeping in Rumplestiltskin's arms.

They had only known each other for only a few days, and already she felt like she had known them for years. Bae watched her suspiciously for a moment, wondering what he had missed, but let the matter drop and passed her the bread instead. She ate slowly; her thoughts were plagued with the memory of Rumplestiltskin and the hushed beating of his heart by her ear. Bae finished his bread, stood, kissed Belle on the cheek making her smile, waved goodbye, and left for school. But before closing the door, Bae made her promise she would be home when he returned, and Belle obliged to his request.

Once Bae had left and Belle was alone, she felt the severity of the state in which she was in. Her body was incredibly achy, and her legs trembled when she stood. She supported her weight on the table, helping her stand when suddenly she sneezed. The one sneezed caused pulled a trigger of sorts and a chain of sneezes was brought upon her. Belle caught her breath, and moved to the couch. Today would be a very long day, especially after she realized she had caught a terrible cold.

**Thank you for reading. I shall update soon. I do appreciate your thoughts. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I hope you are all enjoying the story, and I would like to thank my reviewers, followers, and further ado, here is chapter two.

**WARNING:** There is some foul language in this chapter, nothing too grotesque.

* * *

George, nicked named "King George", was a loathsome supervisor who basked in the presence of hardworking employees. He cared little, if at all, for his workers, often times ignoring their requests for a safer working environment. Heartless and cruel, he ordered his workers to work themselves to the bone; often times, that was the case, for workers would work themselves to half to death in their desperation. King George showed no mercy and ruled with an iron fist.

He sat leisurely in his office as Rumplestiltskin passed through the factory doors. His staff clanked loudly against the cement floor as he passed the roaring machines surrounding him. Workers wore dull expressions as they watched him walk through sunken eyes. The factory reeked of soulless production as if the workers themselves had become machines; humanity was none existent. Rumplestiltskin checked in, sliding his card in a little pocket by the door and slipped passed King George's office window. Just as he made it to his machine he was stopped by a hand smashing down upon his shoulder and turning him around. He winced at the shock, but composed himself quickly.

"What do you think you are doing?" King George stood proudly, mercilessly backing Rumplestiltskin into submission.

"I-I-I," He stuttered in panic.

"You pathetic little slim…you're late!" An indefatigable lack of compassion glazed over King George's frigid eyes.

"Yes, well I-I-I," Rumplestiltskin jumped with nerves, as he quickly raked his brain for a believable excuse.

"You're trying to be a wise guy aren't you?" King George mocked, "You're trying to make a statement, aren't you?"

"No-" Rumplestiltskin attempted to replied, but was viciously interrupted.

"SHUT UP! As penalty for being late, I'll be taking Thursday's pay," Rumplestiltskin's heart sank, and he suddenly felt dizzy.

"Oh no-no-no! Please, I need that money. I need it to feed my son and-" Rumplestiltskin begged, lifting his chin in the process.

"There goes Friday's pay as well…keep back talking me and I might just fire you," Rumplestiltskin was at a lost for what to do, he needed the money for food and rent but if he spoke again King George would surely fired him. Rumplestiltskin had seen him do it so many times before and he felt queasy at the thought of being next.

King George watched him, waiting for Rumplestiltskin to speak, silently hoping he would so he could fire him on the spot. King George tempted him with steely-eyes, squinting them every few seconds. Rumplestiltskin sat defeated and a cynical laugh rang throughout the factory, warning all the others. King George retreated to his office without remorse.

Without much choice, Rumplestiltskin sighed miserably, as he started up his machine. There was nothing more he could do. He worked with freshly made thread straight out of the dying pool, which caused long-lasting stains on Rumplestiltskin's hands. All colors of thread passed through his machine, and he would quickly lift the thread, bundle it, tie it together, and set it on a lower machine by his leg. A conveyer belt would transfer the tied thread to packaging. Hours passed filled with lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Over, and over, and over again. Rumplestiltskin's neck, shoulders, and back ached painfully after eight hours of the same motion. His fingers were blistered and covered completely in friction burners.

A noisy bell rang shocking all workers out of their workaholic trance. They greedily made their way into the mess haul to grab their food for their fifteen minute lunch break. Rumplestiltskin never brought food to work, in hopes of saving it. He was especially hungry today for he hadn't indulged in his usual breakfast. Rumplestiltskin pressed his hands into his gut willing the hunger to dissipate, but moaned then sighed with little success. He sat at one of the tables with his co-workers who had begun speaking of usual topics like politics, alcohol, sex, unfairness, and inequality.

Rumplestiltskin comfortably listened; he was never welcomed into conversation, and the simple thought reminded him of Belle. Unlike anyone he had ever met before, Belle was always asking him questions and most surprisingly she listened to him. Her big beautiful eyes would watch him intently, waiting for him to continue and he smiled at the thought of her enthusiasm. He missed her…

"Damn bitch never shuts up!" The crude language knocked Rumplestiltskin from his thoughts.

Jefferson, a slightly deranged single father, had begun rambling nonsense that caught Rumplestiltskin's attention. Jefferson worked in the packaging section where Regina Mills, nick named the Evil Queen, supervised.

"Now she's complaining I'm not doing my job fast enough. God damn, how fast is fast enough. My arms feel like there gonna fall off! My back feels like its being stabbed! My body feels like it's been attack by fifty frying pans! What am I supposed to do to please her?" Jefferson rambled on, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but pity him, completely understanding his situation.

The King and Queen had raised all quotas by the double in just two months. Workers were feeling the strain of long hours, and not having enough money to sustain themselves or their families. Everyone was disgruntled and it didn't seem like the situation was going to change anytime soon. Quickly inhabiting the seat next to Rumplestiltskin, Jefferson's mood changed abruptly to cheerful with a hint of playfulness.

"Oh hey hobblefoot, how's your day going?" Jefferson teased; Rumplestiltskin frowned at the nickname, "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Oh come on now, don't be like that…listen, I heard what happened this morning with you and the king and I just wanted to let you know that if you need some coins—I'm not in the best economic position, but I know I'm doing a lot better than you—I can spare a few for food," Rumplestiltskin's perked an eyebrow; Jefferson was not notorious for his modesty, even if what he was speaking was not the truth. Jefferson was just as poor, if not poorer, than Rumplestiltskin and the gesture of offering him money to survive was generous and kind.

Rumplestiltskin was puzzled, "Why?"

Jefferson paused for a moment, formulating his words before speaking, "Because I know what it's like to have a kid and be afraid I won't be able to feed her. Besides, you did the same for me a couple months ago. Don't you remember?" Jefferson looked at Rumplestiltskin who met his gaze in confusion.

"No, I…" Rumplestiltskin thought for a moment, but he couldn't recall such a time.

"Yeah. Regina took _three days pay_ from me because Grace was sick and I came in late because I couldn't find her a babysitter and I was going to be left without enough to pay for the bills, food, and medicine. I was stuck, and I really thought it was the end… I even got on my knees and begged her," Rumplestiltskin suddenly recalled the memory and nodded, "you offered me enough coins to feed my little Grace, and I swear you were like a guardian angel that day," A grin appeared on Rumplestiltskin's lips, he never knew the small gesture had meant so much to the man.

"Maybe I should be asking you the same question?" Jefferson asked suddenly, "Why did you help? It's not like you're made out of money and you had Bae to support. Why would you help me?" Rumplestiltskin glanced at his torn hands folded across the table and replied, "Perhaps for the very same reasons you have for helping me."

The work bell sounded, interrupting their conversation. They both rose and made for their work stations, but before they left the mess haul Jefferson slipped two dollars into Rumplestiltskin's hand (the equivalent pay of two day's work) then disappeared in the masses of workers without giving Rumplestiltskin a chance to thank him properly. Perhaps he didn't need it, and for that Rumplestiltskin was eternally grateful.

Rumplestiltskin arrived at his dreadful machine and hobbled to his chair where he noticed a slip of paper. He opened the crumpled note which read, "I guess this evens out the odds, your friend. Jefferson. P.S Do you know why a raven is like a writing-desk?" Puzzlement etched across Rumplestiltskin's features and he looked toward the packaging area where Jefferson stood awaiting his response. Rumplestiltskin shrugged and mouthed the words, "I have the slightest idea," both smiled and returned to there work just as the King and Queen entered to "supervise." And suddenly it was back to lifting, bundling, tying, and setting. Lifting, bundling, tying, and setting.

* * *

Moraine had always been a friend to Bae, always willing to talk when he had a problem or when he simply needed someone to listen. They shared lunch everyday by the playground away from the other kids because they would jeer and tease them mercilessly. So today when Bae didn't join her outside by the playground, she was slightly hurt. She spotted him walking alongside the fence that enclosed the schoolyard playground and swiftly scurried to his side. He ignored her as she came up beside him.

"Have I done something wrong?" She questioned, confused by his behavior.

"Oh no, it's just…I'm worried," Moraine watched him with questioning eyes and he answered her unasked question,

"It's Belle, I'm worried."

"Belle?" Moraine could not recall anyone with that name.

"The woman that was lying in the alleyway. Her name is Belle, and she's been staying with us," Bae informed.

"Oh yes, I remember now, but why are you worried. Is something wrong?" Moraine peered at him.

"Well, she looked a little pale this morning. I didn't say anything to her but she seemed really weak when she sat down at the table for breakfast. I'm worried I think she may be sick," Bae sighed as his fears threatened to drown him.

"Well, I'm sure if she wasn't feeling all that well she would have said something, right?"

"I don't know. Belle won't admit sickness so easily, she's kinda stubborn," Moraine giggled at that.

"It sounds like she and I would get along. I'm sure she'll be alright, at least until you get home," Moraine placed a hand on Bae's back trying to sooth his anguish; he nodded and accepted her answer. Despite Moraine's reassuring words, a tense feeling settled in the pit of Bae's stomach and all he wished to do was run home and see that Belle was, indeed, alright.

"Come on, I have something I want to show you," Moraine pulled Bae by the hand until they were beneath a bare willow tree.

She dragged him behind the tree and knelt on her knees, pointing at a spot on the ground.  
"Look," she commanded and he obeyed.

"It's a caterpillar!" Bae exclaimed, "How could it be out at this time of year? Isn't it too cold."

"That's what I thought," Moraine agreed.

The caterpillar was an unearthly shade of blue, green with specks of silver. Bae lifted the beautiful creature in his hands and allowed Moraine to slide a finger down its slimy back. She smiled at the touch, relishing the bizarre texture; Bae watched her through his eyelashes.

"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you," Bae looked at the ground before she could notice he had been staring. He listened to her as she continued, "I won't be coming to school tomorrow."

"What? Why?" Bae's head shot up as he tried to hide his disappointment.

"My aunt has come to stay with my family for the week and they brought along my baby cousin and tomorrow they were going to go see the town so they asked me to baby-sit."

"They asked you to miss school," Moraine blinked at him.

"Yes, well it's not like one day will hurt too much. Anyway, I could easily make up the work."

Bae shrugged, placed the caterpillar on the ground, shoved his hands in his pockets, and gently kicked a rock over,

"I guess your right."

"I'm sorry," she added timidly detecting his saddened mood.

"That's alright; you'll be back the next day won't you?" Bae asked hopefully and smiled widely when she nodded.

"Great," Bae beamed at her and she smiled, "Do you want to go play with Henry?"

"Oh, yes! Maybe he can read us a story from his book," they both darted off to meet with the boy on the abandon swing set. Moraine always enjoyed Henry's stories and Bae had always been secretly envious of Henry. Henry could make Moraine smile so widely that Bae that her face would split in two, and Bae did not like it one but.

A thought struck Bae mid-run, he thought of Belle and his father and their interaction, and all of a sudden a story came to mind. Today, Bae would tell Moraine, in front of Henry, of the beauty that fell in love with beast, and with that he would win her heart.

* * *

Back at the factory, Rumplestiltskin's mind had begun to wander. As his machine violently rushed thread into his hand, his thoughts would be pulled by the memory of Belle's smile, her sugary smell, the manner in which her arms float around as she walks the manner in which the words drip from her tongue as she talks, and her enchanting eyes. Futile fantasies bombarded him, and he lost himself in thoughts of her. He could picture her elegant hand sliding down his cheek, caressing his jaw line, trailing down his neck to finally rest above his heart. His mind saw her lips growing closer to his, and she was going to kiss his cheek when he shifted and crushed his lips to hers instead, earning a willing gasp-

"Rumplestiltskin! Rumplestiltskin! What the hell do you think you're doing? You're gonna kill yourself!" Rumplestiltskin was knocked from his trance by the King's bellowing cries, and a sharp pain radiating up his arm.

King George hit the emergency stop button on Rumplestiltskin's machine, immediately killing the power.

"Rumplestiltskin, your hand," King George pointed in horror, calling attention to Rumplestiltskin's hand.

Rumplestiltskin realized his hand had been caught in the tracks of the machine, splitting the skin open, allowing blood to spurt wildly over the thread. He couldn't feel the pain of the injury, which he thought was bizarre but as seconds passed he could feel a burning sting which slowly converted into unbearable pain. The needle in which the thread rested on had completely pierced through his hand. King George grabbed his forearm and yanked Rumplestiltskin until his hand was totally removed from the needle. It all happened so quickly that Rumplestiltskin didn't have time to protest.

Suddenly, the wave of pain hit him, and he clasped his hand, bringing it to his chest. In the back of Rumplestiltskin's mind he knew that if he didn't meet his quote that he was going to be fired, so he tried to play off the wound as if it wasn't so bad, biting his lip to keep from screaming in pain. Rumplestiltskin didn't convince anyone.

"Come on, get up you stupid fool," King George barked his orders, but Rumplestiltskin was too in shock to obey.

King George brutally kicked Rumplestiltskin's crippled knee, lightly smirking when Rumplestiltskin fell off his chair and hit the cement floor, clutching his knee, ignoring the pain in his hand.

"That'll teach you to listen to me when I give you orders. Now, get up I said," Rumplestiltskin grabbed his staff and attempted to stand, but the pain in his knee wouldn't allow it.

King George placed a hand under Rumplestiltskin's arm and forcefully lifted him causing a whimper to escape his lips.

King George looked surprised, "Oh, what was that…whimpering like a little baby," he laughed and shoved Rumplestiltskin forward.

"To my office. Now!" King George shouted and Rumplestiltskin was forced to obey.

Sharp jolts of pain shot through Rumplestiltskin as he walked forward forced by King George's unyielding grasp. His eyes stung with unshed tears and he wanted to kill the man for his cruelty, but he knew he would never have the strength or the courage. Once in King George's office, Rumplestiltskin was allowed to sit. His leg screamed bloody murder, overriding the pain in his hand. Blood drops spilled onto the floor as King George took his seat behind the desk.

"Well, you sure are having a banner day aren't you Rumplestiltskin," Rumplestiltskin's gaze was glued to the ground; a pained expression was plastered upon his tanned face.

"I-I'm sorry, it all happened so quickly and I did not even-" the words died in his mouth when he looked upon to find King George's eyes stalking him like prey.

"Wrap up you hand with this," King George tossed him a scratchy stained rag and a safety pin, "and get back to work. I don't want anymore incidents. Is that understood?"

Rumplestiltskin nodded causing King George to squawk with silent rage, "What was that?"

"Yes," Rumplestiltskin whispered.

"Yes, WHAT?" King George persisted.

"Yes, sir." Rumplestiltskin's voice was barely audible, but somehow it was enough.

"Good, I'm glad you've learned some manners. Now get out," King George shooed him away with his hand as if he were a dog and returned to reading a comic lying open on his desk.

Rumplestiltskin limped away with the dirty rag and safety pin in hand. He wrapped his injury as he painfully hobbled back to his machine. When he arrived he noticed it had been cleaned and the blood-covered thread had been removed. He powered up the machine and began to work once again. Despite his angry wounds, he met his quota by the end of his fourteen hour shift.

The windows in the factory allowed Rumplestiltskin to discern that it was twilight when he turned off his machine. He made to stand up, but his leg wouldn't move. He sat, resting in his chair for a moment, willing the muscles to heed to his command. Forcing his body to move, Rumplestiltskin stood with great agony. Every step was an obstacle and he clung to his staff with both hands, despite the injuries, to keep himself from falling. The weight he placed on his staff caused the injury on his hand to reopen, soaking the already filthy rag with his blood.

Masses upon masses of workers fled the factory as if it were on fire when their shifts were finally over; they were all grateful to be released, and no one paid Rumplestiltskin any attention. They met his gaze, sneered, and quickly looked the other way. Slowly Rumplestiltskin exited the factory, unaided, leaving behind his hell. He limped at a terribly slow pace, sighing with gratifying relief. At last, he would get to see Bae and his beautiful Belle.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin approached the school, leaning half his body weight on his staff. Bae rose from his seated position in a rush, quickly running to his father's side with Moraine behind him.

"Papa, papa! I was so worried I thought something had happened to you. It's nighttime what took you so long you're three hours late," Bae helped his father by allowing him to support his weight on his shoulders.

"Aye that it is, I'm sorry son. I had a bit of an accident and it took me a little longer to get here, that's all," Rumplestiltskin hoped Bae wouldn't ask anymore questions.

"C'mon, let's go it's getting late. Belle's probably terrified we haven't returned yet," Rumplestiltskin smiled at the thought of her comforting embrace.

"Belle? Terrified? Ha!" Bae gave a humorless laugh giving Rumplestiltskin a start, "Ha-ha, well perhaps terrified is not the proper term for the brave beauty. How about…worried sick?"

"That's a little bit better," Bae replied helping his father walk when Moraine caught sight of Rumplestiltskin's hand.

"Rumple, what happened to your hand…it's bleeding?" Moraine's question stopped Bae dead in his tracks.

Bae slid out from underneath Rumplestiltskin to examine his injured hand and Rumplestiltskin tried to explain to him before he could panic, but it was already too late.

"Papa! What happened? Who did this? Did someone attack you?" Bae shot him a wild amount of questions, interrogating him, and Rumplestiltskin waited for his fury to calm before he answered, "I just had a little accident at work that's all, I promise. I'm alright son; there is no need to worry," Rumplestiltskin tried to comfort his son, but Bae knew something had happened and he was determined to know.

"But look at all the blood," Bae insisted with heart broken eyes.

"It's nothing. It's just a scratch. It doesn't even hurt," Rumplestiltskin lied; his hand felt like it was being soaked in acid.

Though Bae knew Rumplestiltskin was hiding something, he couldn't quite place what that something was, so he let the subject drop, accepting his father's response, if only for the time being. His father needed to rest rather than argue. With a frown, Bae returned to his place underneath Rumplestiltskin's arm. Moraine joined him on the opposite side, taking the staff in her hands so Rumplestiltskin could use them as crutches. He smiled with tears in his eyes at their kindness as they began their journey home one step at a time.

* * *

After two hours, they had finally arrived home, and it was incredibly late. Rather than dropping Moraine off at her home first, she helped Rumplestiltskin and Bae home first instead. Handing Rumplestiltskin his staff, she ran to her door. They watched as she entered her home and closed the door behind her whispering a, "Get well soon," to Rumplestiltskin and, "Goodnight" to Bae. Moraine's family had already fallen asleep as had most of the residents in the building.

Rumplestiltskin would only have a few hours of sleep before he would have to return to the factory, and Bae would be exhausted for school tomorrow. Bae turned the knob and quietly opened the door, for he didn't wish to wake Belle if she had fallen asleep. Their house was flooded with darkness and impeccable silence, which Bae thought was strange. Had Belle left?

Bae slid out from underneath his father's arm, waiting until he held his balance, and walked to the kitchen, guided by the moonlight shining in from the window. He lit lanterns instead of the lights to save on the electricity bill, and discovered Belle was lying on the couch. Rumplestiltskin could see her sleeping in the dim light, and sighed at the lack of justice his mind had on her beauty. Bae returned to his father's side to help him walk to the chair in the kitchen, but on their way there, Belle groaned. They stopped to check to see if they had woken her and that's when Rumplestiltskin noticed that her hair was plastered to her face, drenched in sweat. Her face was beet red, and her lips were cracked with dryness.

"Bae," He looked up at his father and followed his gaze to Belle.

When Bae noticed her condition he turned back to his father with terror-filled eyes, begging his father for orders. Rumplestiltskin, in a panic, rushed to Belle's side, cursing when pain shot up his leg.

"Bring the chair and place it by her so I can see what's wrong." Bae did as instructed, and aided his father into the chair.

Rumplestiltskin's muscles tensed in nervousness when he placed his hand on her forehead and felt her blistering heat.

"Quick Bae, go in the kitchen, get ice, and wrap it in cloth...we need to cool her," Bae ran.

He brought the ice wrapped in a dish rag, and handed it to his father who quickly took the ice and placed it on Belle feverish forehead.

"What's wrong with her papa?" Bae asked, terrified of the answer.

"She has a fever," Rumplestiltskin was focused and did not give much detail, "Was she like this in the morning when you left for school?"

"No," Bae answered timidly, and added, "she looked a little pale and she seemed weak, but she didn't say anything… I should have stayed. I should have come home early. I knew something was wrong. I just knew it!" Bae grew angry with himself.

Bae watched, willing himself to calm down, as his father stroked her cheek, brushing the mangy hair away from her face.

"Is she going to be okay?" Bae asked with tears in his eyes, and Rumplestiltskin paused not knowing how to answer.

He could lie and say yes, but he knew if that was not the case Bae would never forgive him. Rumplestiltskin didn't answer and Bae grew impatience, "Papa."

"I don't know son…at this point I just don't know yet," Rumplestiltskin answered honestly, figuring it was the best.

"Is she…dying?" Rumplestiltskin stiffened at Bae's question, but quickly replied, "Not if I can help it…now Bae, I need you to go to the market, take this money," Rumplestiltskin handed Bae the two dollars Jefferson had gave him earlier, "and buy whatever medicine you can afford for the flu."

Bae nodded, then flew through the house and out the door. Belle moaned, then whimpered, and Rumplestiltskin whispered in her ear, "It's alright Belle. I'm here now," he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Oh my darling Belle…beautiful Belle…have you been like this all day and no one knew?" Rumplestiltskin held her hand in his as tears bubbled up on his bottle eyelids, "Forgive me…forgive me for leaving you." Tears streaked down Rumplestiltskin's face as guilt settled in.

Belle began to shiver then, and Rumplestiltskin knew it was due to the chills that come with fever. He only hoped Bae would return soon and safely.

* * *

Bae's reached the market doors, at lightening speed, only to discover it was closed. Of course it was closed, it was passed business hours. Bae was at a lost for what to do; he couldn't return empty handed so he stood for a moment to think. _Think, think, think._

In the shadows lurked Gaston with an evil grin and a devilish intention. He had spotted Bae running like death was chasing him, and wondered what the boy could be up to so late at night. Whiling following Bae, Gaston had caught a glimpse of the two dollars he clutched in his small fist. He observed as Bae stopped in front of the market and his shoulders fell as he noticed it was closed. Bae stood thinking, raking his brain for other options, but he couldn't think of anything when suddenly a tall man approached him and stepped under the street lamp.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Gaston taunted the poor boy, but Bae held his ground, shoving the two dollars in his pocket.

"What do you got there, kid?" Gaston questioned, already knowing the answer; he was simply playing with Bae.

"Nothing," Bae answered through gritted teeth, and tried to step past him, but Gaston blocked his way.

Bae was trapped against the market door and Gaston's massive figure; he had no way to escape so he tightened his grip around his two dollars and vowed to protect it with his life. Belle was sick, and she needed him; he would not disappoint her.

"Give it here, kid," Gaston inched closer, and Bae stepped back, running into the door.

"Leave me alone!" Bae shouted and Gaston let out a belly full of laughter, continuing to inch closer and closer.

"I said give-it-here," Gaston was mere centimeters away, and Bae's knees trembled but he refused to give in.

Just as Gaston reached with his arm, Bae lunged forward then kicked his foot as hard as he could in between Gaston legs. He howled in pain and clutched at his parts as Bae made a run for it, but before he could get away Gaston swung around and grabbed Bae by the back of the neck.

"You scrawny little shit! How dare you?" Gaston slammed Bae into the market door, shattering the glass, cutting Bae's forehead.

An alarm rang and Gaston jumped. The store alarmed had been set off and Bae thanked the gods the store owner had installed one because Gaston fled the scene yelling all the while, "I'll kill you! I swear I will. One of these days, kid." Gaston disappeared in the darkness and Bae was left lying in the shattered glass.

He knew the police would arrive soon enough, and if he was caught they would probably blame him for breaking and entering. Deciding quickly, he stood, placing a hand on his forehead to stop the bleeding, and looked for Belle's medicine. He found the cheapest flu medicine, and left the money on the counter, then dashed out the door. Paying little attention to the blood trickling down his face he ran through the alleyway, up the stairs, and into the house. Rumplestiltskin stood in shock at the sight of his son.

"Bae! What happened?" Despite his aching leg, Rumplestiltskin limped to Bae's side to examine him.

"It's nothing. Here, I have the medicine," Bae handed him the bottle, and Rumplestiltskin ignored it too concerned for the gash on Bae's forehead.

"Papa, please! It's nothing, Belle needs her medicine." Rumplestiltskin looked at him for a moment contemplating then responded with, "Don't think I don't expect an explanation," Bae nodded and Rumplestiltskin turned to Belle.

"Grab me a spoon," Rumplestiltskin instructed Bae as he unscrewed the cap on the bottle.

Bae retrieved the spoon and handed it to his father. Rumplestiltskin poured the crimson liquid on the spoon and told Bae, "We need to stir her long enough so she can drink it. Can you do it?" Bae nodded, "Good, be gentle." Bae lightly shook Belle's shoulder causing her to moan, which made him stop immediately.

"Do it again, but just a little harder," Rumplestiltskin told him.

Bae shook her once more, and suddenly her eyelids fluttered open. Rumplestiltskin saw her blue eyes and noticed how they were glazed over with exhaustion and fever.

"Belle…Belle drink this it will make you feel better," Belle noticed the color of the bottle and her thoughts immediately shot back to her father.

"No!" She moaned loudly, trying to swat the spoon away causing the liquid to spill onto Rumplestiltskin's leg, "No, please. Papa, why? Why are you doing this to me?" Rumplestiltskin froze at her words, and Bae listened intently.

"Please papa! Don't, I want to stay. Please," Her voice was hoarse with dryness as she muttered her protests.

"What is she saying papa? I don't understand," Bae turned to his father, but Rumplestiltskin couldn't comprehend either and decided, "It's the fever; she's delusional from the fever."

"How do we get her to drink it?" Bae asked, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't think.

"Papa?" Bae thought of an idea, "I know- she has to drink the medicine one way or another if she's going to get better, so why don't we just plug her nose and make her drink it…" Bae watched Belle thrash helplessly in both agony from the fever and desperation to push the medicine away.

Weighing his options Bae decided for his father, "I'll plug her nose and you drop it in."

Rumplestiltskin, shocked by his son's words, let his jaw hang just a bit, Bae noticed and defended his idea, "Papa, we have no choice."

Rumplestiltskin didn't wish to force Belle even if she was dying from sickness; Rumplestiltskin shuddered at the thought of her death.

"I-I-I can't," Rumplestiltskin shook his head from left to right, wanting to back away.

"No papa we must," Bae insisted.

"Bae, I can't…" Rumplestiltskin looked at his son intensely, and then at Belle's miserable face.

"What other choice do we have?" Bae wanted to save Belle more than anything, and he couldn't think of another way to get her to drink the medicine.

She looked tormented and Rumplestiltskin wanted nothing more than to save her, but he couldn't force feed her…it was just too cruel and he wouldn't do it.

"Belle," Rumplestiltskin spoke in a calm, soothing tone, and Belle gradually stopped thrashing long enough for her to listen, "Belle, I know that you do not wish to drink this, but I promise you its for your own good," Belle suddenly moaned again at his words, and he knew he had said something wrong, so he tried again, "Belle…Belle listen to me," Belle looked at him dazed, "do you trust me?"

He hoped more than anything she did. Belle looked at him for a moment as if she were looking at a different person.

"Belle?" Rumplestiltskin started again, "Do you trust me?"

She gazed at him as if at a lost for words, but whispered, "Rumple…I'm scared."

At her words Rumplestiltskin moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the chair and in his calm tone began, "No-no Belle there is no reason to be afraid. I'm here and I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise…now, do you trust me?" Rumplestiltskin thought she was going to refuse him, push him away and never let him return, but instead she nodded, keeping her gaze connected with his.

"This will help you get better," he stated and poured another tablespoon of the crimson liquid, slowly bring it to her lips.

He gently poured the liquid in her mouth as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. He wiped her tears away, kissing her forehead before pouring one more spoonful and placing it to her lips. She scrunched her face at the taste, but quickly swallowed the second spoonful and Rumplestiltskin stroked her clammy forehead whispering, "See dearie, that wasn't so bad. Rest sweetheart, everything will be alright."

Belle began to doze off and Rumplestiltskin leaned away to retrieve the ice that had fallen in all the commotion, but stopped when Belle's eyes shot open and begged him, "No, please don't leave me. Stay," her words made his heart sing; she wanted him to stay.

He softly comforted her worries, "I'm not leaving. I was just getting the ice for your head. Rest my darling Belle you'll feel better tomorrow," Rumplestiltskin took her hand in his and placed the ice on her forehead.

He gently ran his fingers across her hand, willing her to fall asleep. Only a few minutes had passed before Belle was engulfed by peaceful slumber and both Rumplestiltskin and Bae visibly relaxed.

"How did you know to talk to her like that?" Bae asked after a few moments, ashamed for having thought to force her to drink the liquid.

Rumplestiltskin met his gaze and waved at him to sit by the chair; he did so obediently.

"I have learned that sometimes it is best to be calm and gentle then violent and forceful," Rumplestiltskin watched as Bae bowed his head ashamed, "What's the matter?"

"I…I was going to force her…I'm a bad person…" Rumplestiltskin understood now that Bae felt terrible for his thoughts.

"No Bae, you are not a bad person. You simply panicked, and when we have someone we care about and they are in danger of losing their life and we don't know what to do and they refuse our desperate attempts to help them, sometimes we make wrong choices. You made a mistake. You understand now what you did though, right?" Bae nodded, tears streaming freely down his mortified face, "Alright then, take it as a learning experience and if this ever happens again in the future, which I hope it doesn't, at least you'll know what to do then."

"I'm sorry," Bae whispered timidly.

"I know son," Rumplestiltskin petted his son's hair without releasing his grip on Belle's hand; it was then he remembered Bae's cut, "Now, tell me what happened to your head?"

Bae wiped away his tears and began his tale, "I ran to the market, but it was closed," Rumplestiltskin had forgotten that they had gotten home rather late, "Ah yes I should have known."

Bae continued, "I stopped to think of other markets that could be open, but before I could think of any Gaston showed up out of no where," Rumplestiltskin tensed with anger as Bae continued, "He wouldn't let me pass and he wanted to see what I was holding but I didn't want him to see the two dollars so I put the money in my pocket. He got so close so I hit him and ran, but he caught me from behind the neck and threw me into the market door. Papa…" Bae saw a death glare flash across Rumplestiltskin face before he met his son's gaze, "I broke the door," Bae stated sheepishly, and Rumplestiltskin shook his head.

"No that oaf did. You did nothing wrong," Bae continued at his statement.

"Well, the store was closed and Belle needed the medicine so I took the cheapest medicine I could find and I left the money on the counter. Do I do wrong?" Bae looked at his father hopeful, and Rumplestiltskin gave him a small smile and answered, "No, just as long as you left the money on the counter. You did alright."

"The alarm went off too; that's what scared Gaston away," Bae watched for his father's reaction, there was none.  
"It's no matter now son. Go get the little box in the bathroom and I'll clean that cut for you," Bae stood and made for the bathroom, but paused and whispered, "Maybe I should clean your cuts too," pointing out Rumplestiltskin's many injuries.

Rumplestiltskin's head still had the cloth that Belle had placed on there the night before when he ran head first into the ledge on the roof, and his hand was covered in dried blood, dirt, and a flimsy stained rag. Rumplestiltskin nodded and Bae retrieved the little box, handing Rumplestiltskin the supplies he needed to clean their wounds.

Once Bae's wound was cleaned and covered, Rumplestiltskin focused on his own. His fingers were numb and he could barely move them. The area in which the needle passed through had become purple with bruising. Fearing infection, Rumplestiltskin leaned over and retrieved the rubbing alcohol from the little box that Bae had set on the floor. Rumplestiltskin limped to the bathroom, closed the door, poured the alcohol on his wound, and bit his inner cheek until it bled to keep from shrieking.

Once he was sure his wound was disinfected he wrapped it with clean cloth, and turned his attention to his head wound. The gash on his head had started heal nicely, thanks to Belle's excellent nursing. He took off the bandage, and decided to leave it uncovered. When his wounds had finally been attended, he returned to Belle's side, holding her cold pale hand in his, trying to warm it with his heat. She didn't appear to be in pain, and Rumplestiltskin thanked whatever gods existed for that simple fact.

His eyes drooped, and his head slowly began to fall as exhaustion began to take over. The day had proven to be a challenge, and Rumplestiltskin dreaded the hour in which he would have to return to his work beaten, bloody, and utterly destroyed.

After Bae had left for school earlier that morning, Belle's body had collapsed into a fit of sickness. Her body was wracked with fever and weakness, and she rested on the couch willing the chills to go away. She hadn't eaten, and when she tried to stand she simply couldn't, so she lay sleeping on the couch waiting for Rumplestiltskin and Bae to arrive. She waited all afternoon falling in and out of restless sleep.

Every time she awoke it seemed her condition had worsened, and she would groan and moan wishing they would come home. Once the fever had settled in, her dreams had become hyperactive and strange. All of them involved Rumplestiltskin and Bae, just in different settings and times. Belle's body shivered as sweat drops collected on her already damp forehead as she closed her eyes once again when she noticed Rumplestiltskin and Bae hadn't come home yet. Behind closed eyelids she saw…

An aerial hoop act; Rumplestiltskin and Belle, flew throughout the heavens above. Rumplestiltskin leg was healed in her dream. The act was almost animalistic; ecstasy enveloping both their bodies. She danced through the air akin to a cherub while his soaring was reminiscent to that of an almighty eagle. Glorious envy saturated the walls of the showroom, emitted from those below, yearning for a small taste of their nebulous love.

She gracefully glided, tenderly twisting her arms and gripping the hoop viciously while he cradled her petite frame from behind. He nestled his head in the crook of her neck, trembling from the intensity of the powerful energy that surmounted him in her proximity; pleasantly comfortable with the deranged delightfulness of flying with her. She exhaled slowly, gradually releasing one hand from the hoop to swathe it behind his collar.

He could sense her rapidly setting fire to every part of him she touched with her small and delicate hand. Though painful, he enjoyed the erotic pleasure of having her sharp nails digging into his warm, soft, flesh; almost whimpering when she removed her hand to elevate her glittering body to the hoop once again. She threw her head back as he reached up with his hand to caress her silky hair; his mind indulging in the mesmerizing scene of her body bending backward to meet with his expectant hand. They were a staggering fifty feet above ground, both careless of the lives they lived down below.

Emotions fluttered through them; the movement of their bodies, the sugary melody playing syrupy notes, rousing a drowsy tenderness enrapturing them both in immense passion. Sweat drops amalgamated, searing gasps of breathless air escaping their tattered lungs collided, and eyes interlaced as skin entangled itself into an inescapable knot. They were in love, though he was cowardly and she was brave. Together they built a happy medium where they both settled comfortably, spectators gazed as their love unfolded with every touch. He sat within the hoop; her legs sheathed around his mid section; the heels of her feet resting at the small of his back. She brought her hand to his face to lay it upon his cheek watching as his eyes trailed from her eyes, down her neck, past her shoulder to reside at her wrist.

Her hand went limp, falling upon his chest, landing directly over his heart. He grabbed it memorizing her hand; the feel of it in his rough calloused one. Tracing the veins with his fingertips, and completely adoring the beauty of her as her chestnut curls rose and fell to the rhythm of her breathing. He was tempted to touch one curl, the one closest to his hand, but he would never take the liberty of doing so without asking for her permission. Instead, he sighed and held her hand, content for the little contact. He leaned toward her smoothly falling into their next pose. Both sculpted their bodies into rigid forms, smiling when the audience responded with an audible applause. He admired her; she was young, with pale skin, full red lips; chestnut curls falling pass her shoulders. His humble personality contrasted with her pale and well built body. Neither paid much attention to the other's silhouette, focusing more on the strength they possessed rather than physical appearance. Lacking in superficial love they survived the obstacles of life.

The crowd gasped as he held her ankle and dropped her body in the air. Surprisingly, she trusted him with such a task. His chest puffed out, a tinge of pride invading him at knowing he held her unattainable trust. Grinning madly he lifted her effortlessly in his arms; the fiery embrace scorching her already warm skin; she sighed comforted by the unbearable heat. Sweat collected on his forehead, his face already crimson red from the extraordinary benevolence presented by the inhuman movements. Drawing his hands across her torso, she threw her head back snuggling in the crook of his neck.

She turned, tilting her head slightly, her lips rested near his collar, the microscope hairs on his jaw line curling, offended by her hot breath. He lifted her; his arms steadied and balance as her legs stood proudly in the air; their faces only inches apart, growing closer and he lowered her to him. A sudden memory struck him as he balanced her in mid air. Smiling, he remembered the fond memory of the first time she visited his apartment; she'd been evicted from hers on short notice and he had kindly offered her a place to stay. He closed his eyes briefly remembering the bravura experience.

_"Scared of heights?" He asked her as he gestured for her to follow him outside onto the balcony forty three stories in the air, she didn't need to answer him._

_They both stood on his balcony overlooking a beautiful lake; her jaw dropped just a little but she composed herself quickly._

"_It's so beautiful," she gasped. _

The memory faded, and his mind became aware of his present surroundings. He held her now; looking deeply into her eyes, half-hoping to drown in the vast magnificence of them. Unwavering, he continued to balance her; her legs slicing through air as her eyes silently examined his expression. His mind drifted to the memory once again.

_He watched her; his gaze fiery, growing timidly passionate. Within it was a smoldering patience, a tenderness that was sweetly torturous, almost noxious. He searched her eyes for any rejection, any doubt, there was none. Her eyes wore a silent plea while his wore urgency, almost frantic with his timorous desire. After a few intoxicating moments of indulging in each others company, they settled with watching the sunset._

The memory slipped from his mind as their act rose to the climax. Tension intensifying, they prepared themselves for their most treacherous stunt. His body elated with excitement; his mind wandering with endless memories, misjudged their final stunt. She slipped from his sweaty hand, her fingertips inhabiting an icy tinge as she felt chilled air instead of his warm hands. His eyes went wide, his breath caught, his heart stopped mid-beat, as he reached for her. Fingertips grazed each other as she fell helplessly toward the ground. Their hands failed at connecting and she clawed at the air trying desperately to save herself from plummeting toward Earth. The crowd screamed in horror, women covered their eyes, blinding themselves from the awful scene that was soon to unfold.

…Suddenly Belle awoke to a hand shaking her shoulder. She met Rumplestiltskin's face, and noticed he held a red bottle. _No. No!_ Her mind jumped to the memory of her father and she wanted to run away. The knights held her fast as she tried to escape, but then she heard Rumplestiltskin's voice, his sweet and soothing voice. He was saving her from the knights in shining armor. Rumplestiltskin asked her if she trusted him, and she thought back on her dream and how the man had let the woman fall, but she trusted Rumplestiltskin with her life, similar to the woman in her dream.

But Rumplestiltskin wouldn't let her fall; he was here now comforting her mind and delusions, saving her from the malevolence of her father and his cruel yet obeying knights. She nodded at his question, despite her dreams. Rumplestiltskin brought the crimson liquid to her lips, and she allowed him to pour it into her mouth. Tears streamed down the corners of her eyes as she expected the burning to return to her mouth, her lips, her throat, but it never came; she expected to be engulfed by fog then taken to another land, but she stayed with her eyes watching Rumplestiltskin the entire time. He smiled at her and whispered sweet and endearing words. Belle was in grateful disbelief.

Rumplestiltskin advised her to rest but she didn't want to rest she wanted to kiss him, hug him, and show him how much she _lov-_ liked him in that moment. Her exhaustion defeated her before she could thank him, but before she was engulfed by slumber she begged him to stay with her. He would keep the bad dreams away. Rumplestiltskin stayed, holding her hand as her dreams came to life once again…

He threw his leg out to give her something to grasp. Digging her fingers into his fleshy tissue, she had caught herself. Wrapping her legs around his, she climbed onto him slipping into his arms and his warm embrace. They held each other for a long moment, neither speaking a word, only savoring the softness of the other and respecting the possibilities of a minor incident.

He tried to apologize, but she lifted a finger to his lips silencing him at once. Quickly rearranging themselves on the hoop, they continued their performance mindful of the last stunt they needed to recreate. His mind focused, growing alert; her body shaky, itchy with adrenaline managed to work though the leading stunts arriving once more at their final spectacular act. Aware of every breath, he threw her into the air recreating their previous attempt. She held her breath half-expecting to fall when she was suddenly encased by his soft yet firm arms. Brilliantly concluding their performance, recovering marvelously from their previous mishap, the subtle illumination of the spotlight dimmed. The audience applauded—fascinated—eternally stained with the day they flew.

* * *

With two hours of sleep, Rumplestiltskin awoke on time for work. He had slept in the chair holding Belle's hand unwilling to leave her side. Rumplestiltskin attempted to stand, but his body was physically incapable of doing so. He tried over and over to rise, but his legs simply wouldn't listen; he was too exhaustion, and finally after multiple attempts he gave up, dropping his head to rest on Belle's hand. Even if the world ended, he wouldn't have moved in that moment. Rumplestiltskin was tired…work could wait.

Hours later Bae awoke to discover his father had stayed home. Bae had never known of a day that Rumplestiltskin had missed work. At first he was stunned, but smiled thankful his father had the senses to realize when he just couldn't go on. Rumplestiltskin needed time to recover, and Bae was glad Belle and he would be recovering together. Bae prepared himself for school, tiptoeing not wishing to wake either of them. Belle, Bae noticed, had better color and looked like she was almost smiling. Bae grinned at the sight of his father resting his head on Belle's hand as they both slept. Bae, despite his disappointment for Moraine's absence, knew that today would be a better day. He left for school, comfortable knowing Belle was in good hands.

**A/N: **Disaster strikes! Gosh, when it rains it pours. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, despite the tragedy and the confusing dreams/delusions. Thank you to my reviewers. I really appreciate your kind words.


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